


No Good Deed

by SouthernWriter



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26570668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernWriter/pseuds/SouthernWriter
Summary: The is the companion to It Only Takes a Moment.  These are the same events, we just get to see them from Nick's POV
Kudos: 3





	No Good Deed

**Author's Note:**

> So I sat down and churned this out today, so there are probably mistakes. I apologize for those. Hopefully this is a satisfactory companion to It Only Takes a Moment. Cross posted at FFN under my older penname.

_Nick glanced at his watch. He still had 30 minutes before he had to be at work, barring an early call-in. He’d spent the last two weeks in Reno as the star witness in a federal case, leaving his team short-handed. From what he’d been hearing from Warrick, Grissom had been less than easy to work with. So Nick decided to stop by his favorite coffee shop to get his teammates a little pick-me-up to get them through the night._

_With the to-go carrier in hand, Nick headed out the door toward his car. A sudden scream behind him had him whirling around, and the cups hit the ground…_

…As he took in the scene. He was moving before making a conscious decision to do so. His trained investigator’s eye had taken in the young woman, hands full of grocery bags and a baby, and the little guy who had obviously decided he was done holding mom’s hand and that it was a perfect time to make a run for it. Directly into the path of an oncoming vehicle. With only the thought of protecting the little boy at the forefront of his mind, Nick launched himself across the parking lot toward the oblivious toddler. Ignoring the little boy’s scream of frustration, Nick scooped him up. All he had time to do was wrap himself around the child as best he could, and turn his body so that he took the brunt of the impact.

All things taken into consideration, the car didn’t actually strike that hard, but it had generated enough force to send Nick tumbling. Nick had enough training that, had his arms been empty, he could have rolled with the blow, and probably walked away with a few bruises. With the little boy in his arms, however, that wasn’t an option, and Nick went down. Hard. His head bounced off the pavement, and he felt his shoulder pop as he stayed curled around the child. For the briefest moment, he came to a stop, the world seemed oddly silent and still. Then it all came rushing back as the sounds of a woman crying and people shouting enveloped him. The little boy against his chest was also crying and squirming, trying to get the safe familiarity of his mother’s arms. Nick, not knowing if the boy was hurt or not, wasn’t sure about letting go, until a calm, confident voice spoke quietly in his ear.

“Hey, it’s okay man. You can let the little guy go. My name’s Eric. I’m an EMT. I’m going to check him out, make sure he’s okay, and then get him back to his mom. You just stay still. I’ve called for help, but I don’t want you moving until I get some back-up here.”

Nick was more than happy to take the advice. He wasn’t quite hurting yet, but he could tell it wasn’t going to be pleasant once the adrenaline wore off; something that was happening rather quickly. The pain was just starting to set in when sirens announced the arrival of both the police and the ambulance. Neither the sounds, nor the flashing lights, were doing much for his pounding head, or the nausea that was beginning to set in.

He was doing his best to keep his dinner where it belonged, a new voice to his left called out, “Hey, I recognize this guy. He’s one of the criminalists who works with the CSI department.” A hand on his hip startled him and made him jump. “Easy,” that same voice said, closer and softer this time. “I’m just looking for ID to give the EMTs.”

“B’k poc’t,” Nick slurred, vaguely motioning to the appropriate location.

“Back pocket, huh? Think I’ll leave it until these good gentlemen are ready to move you then. I’m officer Velasquez, by the way, but you can call me Marc.”

“Nik,” Nick replied. Or, he though he did. His head, shoulder, and hip were pounding in painful unison, and it was difficult to focus. In fact, for the next little while things got really blurry. Nick just let them carry on around him, until the medics began preparing him for transport.

“No,” he cried out, struggling against the restraints of the backboard he’d been strapped to. “I can’t. I have to get to work. Grissom’s gonna be so pissed that I’m late.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Velasquez soothed. “You need to get checked out, amigo. Your boss can’t be too pissed if you have a legit reason for being late. And if it’ll make you feel better, I can have dispatch get a message to him, let him know what’s going on.”

Assured that Grissom was going to informed what had happened, Nick was able to relax slightly. Taking that as assent, the medics finished loading their patient and headed off toward the hospital.

* * *

Over an hour later, Nick was signing himself out AMA. The doctor wasn’t happy, not with the concussion, bruised ribs, a hip bruised to the bone, a shoulder recently reducted, and a badly twisted knee on the list of his injuries. They’d wanted him to stay overnight, or at the very least go home to rest. Nick was all for that but the only thought his rattled brain could settle on was getting to Grissom and letting his boss know he wasn’t just playing hooky. It never occurred to him he could just call Grissom’s cell phone from any of the landlines in the hospital. With assistance from a helpful nurse, and with a bag full of prescription painkillers and muscle relaxants in hand, Nick called for a cab and headed off. His cell phone had been mostly smashed in the collision, but the last text message was still readable, so Nick had the cab drop him off at the crime scene.

Nick knew he looked a mess, his clothes now rumpled and askew, and his gate was slow and rather unsteady. It was cool enough that evening that Nick had his jacket on, covering his sling, and the wrapping on his knee was covered by his pants. Seeing the controlled chaos that always made up a crime scene ratcheted up Nick’s anxiety. He’d seen how Grissom reacted to people who arrived this late; it was never pretty.

“Grissom,” Nick called out as his boss came into sight. The man was hunched over a table closely examining something. Nick almost flinched when the older man turned to glower at him.

“So good of you to join us,” Gil said coolly as Nick approached.

“Grissom…” Nick said, trying to get the man to focus on him long enough for an explanation.

“I don’t want to hear it, Nick,” the senior CSI growled. “We were called out an hour and a half ago.”

“I know, but…”Nick tried again. He cursed himself as he felt tears threaten to fill his eyes.

“Save it; I’m not interested in your excuses right now,” Grissom interrupted. Nick could tell by the look in his eyes his brain was doing something other than paying attention to this conversation. “But since you’re here now, you can help process the stairwell. Crime scene is on the third floor, and the elevator is out of service.”

“But Grissom,” Nick tried again to protest, this time a little more sharply, knowing just how torturous that assignment was going to be for his abused body.

“You can either get to work, or you can leave and I’ll write you up for insubordination.”

“Yes, sir,” Nick said, this time much subdued. He turned and slowly made his way to the stairwell. Warrick, who _had_ taken note of his limp and unsteady gate, came to his side.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

“Not really. Let’s just say I had a little one-on-one with a car, and the car came out the winner.”

“Whoa, what are you doing here, then? You should be at home in bed. I can’t believe they let you out of the hospital at all.”

“I kinda signed out AMA,” Nick admitted. “All I could think about was getting here to let Grissom know.”

“And he still put you to work?”

Nick tried to shrug, but his bad shoulder stopped any such motion. “He didn’t really give me a chance to explain. And he threatened to write me up for insubordination when I tried.”

Warrick scowled and cursed quietly under his breath. “Okay Nick, you do your best. I’ll let Sara know what happened, and we’ll do what we can to help you out.”

“I appreciate it. If you could, I’ll need supplies; my kit is still in my car, back where the accident happened. I’ll have to figure out a way to pick it up.”

“We can figure that out later. Just wait here; I’ll get a few things to get started.”

“Warrick,” Grissom’s sudden bellow startled both men. “Leave Nick alone and get back to work. You have your own assignment. Nick can do his own work.”

With an apologetic look, Warrick turned and went back to work.

* * *

It had been a long, long day. The most current case was tricky, and there was a lot of evidence to go over and analyze. Having already gone well over his usual schedule, Nick was on his way out the door to get a few hours of rest before coming back on, when Grissom caught him in the locker room.

“Nick, I need you to go back to the crime scene,” his boss informed him.

Nick forced back a groan, Grissom’s earlier threat of writing him up still hanging over his head. 

“What’s up?”

“We were looking over the crime scene photos, and I noticed some interesting marks along the floorboards, but they weren’t logged anywhere else in the evidence. I need you to go examine them, and see if there are any other areas we might have missed.”

Nick didn’t even bother to argue. He doubted Grissom would be any more receptive to his explanation now than he’d been earlier anyway. As Nick headed to the exit, he stopped by the front desk; he was aware enough of his limits to know he wasn’t in any condition to go to the crime scene alone. A quick call went out to see who was available to accompany him. Nick was surprised, but pleased, when Officer Velasquez was quick to volunteer. And as luck would have it, the officer was nearby, having just overseen the delivery of Nick’s car at the CSI office.

“Thanks, man,” Nick said as the pair took off toward the crime scene. “I’m sure you’d much rather be headed home than babysitting my backside.”

“I’m happy to help. I just want to know what you’re doing here instead of holing up safely at home. I saw the medical report; I know just how jacked up that collision left you.”

“My boss wouldn’t let me off,” Nick said simply.

Velasquez gaped at him. “Even after hearing about your accident?”

“He never actually let me explain what happened.”

“I had dispatch relay a message to him. He should have taken one look at you and sent your busted ass right back home.”

Nick gave a dismissive flick of his hand. “I don’t know anything about that. I just know he wouldn’t listen to me.”

Nick was less than excited that their arrival at the crime scene arrived so soon. He gave the building a scowl.

“Where are we headed,” Velasquez asked.

“Third floor, but the elevator’s busted. I just spent a lot of hours climbing up and down those stairs already.”

Nick could tell Marc wanted to say something, likely a snarky comment about Grissom’s paternity and mental acuity, but he appreciated that he held it back. Instead, he gestured ahead and simply said, “After you, then, man.”

The climb took longer than it should have, and Nick’s face was dripping with sweat by the time they reached the third floor. When they arrived at the apartment, Nick carefully cut the crime scene tape and opened the door. Marc, no stranger to crime scenes, stayed by the door so as not to contaminate the site. His resolves was put to the test, however, as he watched Nick painfully drop to his hands and knees and start to craw along the edge of the wall.

“What on earth are you doing,” he asked.

Nick’s voice, when he responded, was breathy, and obviously pained. “Photos showed we missed something. I have to find it, and see if there’s anything we missed.”

* * *

The next hour was a study in misery for Nick. The position he was forced to assume to study the floorboards was torture on his ribs, hip, and knee. Fifteen minutes in, and Nick couldn’t hold back the tears of pain, but he persevered. He wasn’t going to give Grissom any more reason to ream him out.

By the time he was done, Nick couldn’t get back to his feet. Velasquez had to come to his aid.

“Okay,” the officer told him after they left the apartment. “You wait right there. I’m going to re-seal the site. Don’t you even think about trying to take those stairs on your own.”

Nick could only nod; his hip and knee were burning with pain. As Velasquez reached his side, Nick turned back to face the stairs. The pair had just taken the first step, when Nick’s leg decided it had had enough. It buckled under his weight, Nick went crashing down head-first, and that was the last thing he knew.

* * *

Nick’s next awakening was hazy at best. He was pretty sure he was in the hospital, but his brain wasn’t firing well enough that he could say that with any confidence. It took him several times before he was coherent enough to know what was going on. It was what he felt, or rather, couldn’t feel, that sent him into a panic. It wasn’t soothed any at all by the doctor’s visit.

“So I’m paralyzed,” Nick asked, voiced choked with emotion.

“At the moment, yes,” Dr. White confirmed, though not without compassion.

She went on to give a spiel about swelling and pressure, but Nick was too distressed to listen very closely. Recognizing that her patient needed some time to process his current circumstances, the doctor excused herself from his room.

Nick had only been alone five minutes when Grissom arrived.

“What do you want,” Nick said, scowling at his boss. He was in no mood for his boss’s uncomfortable company.

“I came by to see how you’re doing,” Grissom asked.

Nick’s scowl got darker, and he let out a string of curses. What kind of question was that, he wanted to scream. And why did Grissom care; he hadn’t before.

“Are you finished,” he asked when Nick finally got quiet, too tired to continue.

“You know, Grissom, I’m not really in the mood to be patronized today,” Nick growled, turning his face away from his boss. “So why don’t you deliver your lecture or whatever censure actually brought you here, and let me get on with this crappy day.”

Grissom’s response, when it came, sounded appalled. “You think I’m here to reprimand you?”

“I screwed up and compromised the crime scene. And I have no idea where the evidence I collected ended up, so add lost evidence to my list of sins. Why else would you be here in the middle of a case?” Why else would Grissom be here? Maybe if Nick owned up to his stupidity, Grissom would take pity on him and make this reprimand short lived.

Except, Grissom didn’t start chastising him. His tone, when he started speaking, was almost sorrowful.

“Nick, I’m not here to criticize or scold you. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t see how it wasn’t.” Nick could feel his emotional control beginning to slip, and his native accent came out thicker as a result. To his additional horror, tears began to pool in his eyes. “I was supposed to do my job, and I only made more work for everyone. I mean, it’s not like someone pushed me down the stairs and made off with the evidence.”

“Nick, why were you at the crime scene,” Grissom asked, interrupting Nick. 

“To collect the evidence from the floorboards,” Nick replied immediately. He couldn’t work out where Grissom was going with this.

“That was the job you were sent to do,” Grissom agreed, “but why were _you_ at the crime scene?”

“Because you sent me,” Nick said, still feeling confused about why Grissom was asking.

“And why did you fall down the stairs,” Grissom pushed.

“Because my fool leg gave out on me, and I wasn’t fast enough to catch myself. Grissom, where are you going with this? I already know how I messed up.” Nick’s grip on his temper slipped. He wished if Grissom were going to rip him a new one, that he’d get started. This slow interrogation about Nick’s mistakes was worse than any lecture Grissom could have elected to give.

“I’m not doing this very well,” Grissom muttered, surprising Nick. “Nick, the point I was trying, and failing miserably to make, is that what happened at that crime scene wasn’t your fault; it was mine. _I’m_ the one who failed to hear you out about your late arrival, so I had no idea about your injuries. _I’m_ the one who kept you on your feet all day going up and down those stairs collecting evidence, and who refused to let you teammates, who were in the know, help you out. And _I_ was the one who sent you to do a job that aggravated your existing injuries to the point that it overtaxed them, and caused you fall down those stairs.”

“I should have said something,” Nick pressed. “Told you I was hurt.” Surely Grissom could see he’d screwed up, even if he _was_ following orders. He’d put the whole investigation at risk with his behavior. 

“Nick, I’m pretty sure you tried,” Grissom said, further startling his CSI. “And I believe my response was to threaten you with insubordination if I heard another word. Do I appreciate you coming to work compromised? No. But given the circumstances, and your concussion, I think you were only trying to inform me the only way you could think of. Did you know Officer Velasquez even tried to send me word through dispatch about your accident? Only I had my head too far up my rectum, and refused to take the message since it didn’t pertain to the immediate situation. Nick, this whole thing was my fault. And since I haven’t said it, yet: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I caused all this.”

Nick didn’t know what to say. Grissom wasn’t one for apologies, which explained why this one had been so clumsily handled. And if his boss really wasn’t angry about what Nick had, or hadn’t done, then there was only one more issue they needed to face.

“Did you know I’m paralyzed? I can’t feel anything below my waist,” Nick suddenly blurted. Putting it into words made it alarmingly real.

“I know your back took a lot of abuse,” Grissom acknowledged calmly; typical Gil. “There’s a very good chance, once the swelling goes down you’ll get the feeling back.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What will I do?” Nick couldn’t ask what he really wanted to know. Grissom had already abandoned him when he was hurt. More, he’d heaped additional unwarranted punishment on top of it. If Nick was truly hurt so badly, in such a life altering way, would Grissom turn him away again? Would he find some way to punish Nick for getting himself into this predicament? Nick wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Grissom, however, seemed to know exactly what Nick wasn’t asking.

“Nick, if the paralysis _is_ permanent, which I truly don’t think it will be, you’re not going anywhere. Even if you can’t walk, that doesn’t impair your ability to think or to reason. Will accommodations have to be made? Certainly. And there might some things you physically can’t do. But you are a member of this team, and until or unless you are ready to leave, you will have a place with us, regardless.”

Nick met his boss’s, no, his friend’s gaze. The quiet confidence he saw there soothed his fears. He knew there would still be bad days ahead of them, but regardless of what they held, Nick wouldn’t be left to face it alone.


End file.
